


Thanks for not Pepper Spraying Me

by imaythrowuponya



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Wrong Apartment AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3178505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaythrowuponya/pseuds/imaythrowuponya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you serious?” Felicity hisses as she rushes into the kitchen. “A drunk frat guy comes in through the window and you don’t hear anything?!”</p>
<p>Sasha just waddles after her serenely, completely unconcerned about the stranger snoring on the couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanks for not Pepper Spraying Me

**Author's Note:**

> moving this over from my tumblr because why not?

Felicity adapted a dog, instead of getting the home alarm system her mom wanted to buy for her, with the reasoning that a dog would provide her company as well as safety. In reality if she wanted a security system she’d set it up herself; she just wanted a dog. She works from home mostly, editing and writing code for various companies and such. It’s tedious work but it pays well.

So she knows, objectively, she wasn’t relying on her fat Corgi, Sasha, to be any sort of defense other than protection against lonely nights in a large apartment. That doesn’t stop her from glaring at said Corgi when she walks into her living room to find a window open and a large man sprawled on her sofa.

“Are you serious?” Felicity hisses as she rushes into the kitchen. “A drunk frat guy comes in through the window and you don’t hear anything?!”

Sasha just waddles after her serenely, completely unconcerned about the stranger snoring on the couch.

“That’s it.” Felicity mutters, ripping open a drawer looking for her pepper spray. “I’m trading you in for a Rottweiler.”

Sasha huffs and collapses on the floor by her food bowl.

Felicity finds the pepper spray behind her silverware separator. Palming it, she heads back into the living room. Mr. Booze-Stained-Polo-Shirt barely fits on the sofa, long legs bent over the armrest. His arm is thrown over his face but Felicity can make out short tousled blond hair. The aforementioned blue Polo shirt is riding up to reveal a very toned stomach. And now that she’s looking his arms are also quite nice…no concentrate Felicity.

She tears her eyes away, moving around the sofa to face the intruder.

“Hey!” Felicity hisses, reaching out and poking the stranger but staying as far back as she can, thankfully, because she definitely wasn’t expecting the reaction she gets. When she has a morning after it usually takes her three hours and as many cups of coffee for her to get out of bed. Not this guy. He sits bolt upright after barely a brush of Felicity’s fingers, catching her hand in a tight grip. Felicity squeaks, comes face to face with sharp blue eyes and squeaks again.

“Who are you?” The man asks in a raspy voice.

“I should be asking you that.” Felicity tries to keep her voice steady, narrowing her eyes. He looks vaguely familiar. “Seeing as you’re the one who broke into my apartment.”

The man’s eyes widen slightly, taking in the room. His grip on her loosens but he doesn’t let go. His fingers are warm against the underside of her wrist.

“This…isn’t Laurel and Tommy’s apartment.”

“No. No it’s not.”

The man stares for a second then laughs. He seems kind of surprised about it then laughs again, brighter and a little frayed, like he’s not used to the sound. That’s how Felicity recognizes him. This man looks nothing like the bratty rich kid with the cocky smirk that was all over the news five years ago. Now he has lines on his face that sure as hell didn’t come from laughing. His eyes no longer sparkle with self-assured amusement but look dark and shadowed.

“Holy crap you’re Oliver Queen.” Felicity blurts, becoming extremely aware of the fact that she is only in sweat pants and a tank top. The chuckling stops abruptly and he lets go of her hand to run it through his hair. Felicity feels guilty for some reason but she thinks she’s allowed to be a little surprised.

“Yeah,” Oliver says, avoiding her eyes. “I’m really sorry about this. I could have sworn it was Laurel’s apartment…”

“Laurel Lance lives one floor above me.” Felicity says shrugging. “And don’t worry about it. I mean if anybody has the right to get royally trashed it’s you.”

Oliver’s lips quirk slightly at that, it feels like a victory so Felicity answers with a smile of her own.

“Ah, so you want coffee?” Felicity asks, not really sure what to do now. Oliver watches her with a startlingly intense gaze for somebody who is most certainly hung over then shrugs.

“Sure.” He followers her into the kitchen where her good for nothing dog is still waiting by her food bowl.

“You are spoiled and useless.” Felicity grumbles, flicking on the coffee machine before bending over to feed Sasha. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

Oliver is watching from the other side of the island, looking rather amused.

“Some guard dog.”

“Yeah well,” Felicity shrugs. “She’s more of a companion than any type of security measure. I’m going to put up a security system soon but I just haven’t had the time or motivation to program one. I’ve only been here for like a year anyway.”

“Why don’t you just buy one?” Oliver asks, murmuring his thanks as Felicity hands him a mug of coffee. She pushes the milk and sugar towards him but he ignores it, drinking it black.

“Because I can do it better and for less money.” Felicity smirks and Oliver raises an eyebrow.

“And what do you do exactly?”

“I’m a programmer.”

Oliver’s reply is interrupted by White Boy Wasted blasting from his pocket. He grimaces and pulls out his phone, shooting Felicity an apologetic look.

“I don’t know how to change that.” Oliver admits, making Felicity laugh quietly, before answering the call.

“Tommy. Yes, I’m fine. I’m actually…ah…” Oliver glances at Felicity who is trying to hide her grin behind her mug. “I’m in the apartment below you.”

There’s silence and then a burst of noise comes through the phone that Felicity thinks is laughter. Oliver is blushing slightly but a smile is tugging on his lips.

“I’ll be up in a few.” Oliver sighs hanging up on a new round of laughter.

“Well, Felicity. Thank you for your hospitality and not pepper spraying me.” Oliver looks pointedly that the pepper spray tube sitting on the counter by the coffee machine. Felicity blushed but refused to break eye contact.

“Anytime. I mean maybe not any time and preferably without the breaking and entering but you know if you wanted to, ah…” Felicity takes a deep breath, starting again. “No problem, I’ll see you later. Maybe.”

Oliver has that amused look on his face again but he offers a hand, nodding.

“I’ll see you later.”

Felicity takes his hand and holds on maybe a little longer than socially acceptable. His hands dwarf hers and are rough with callouses she assumes he picked up from the island. Just as Oliver reaches the door Felicity pulls herself out of her daze.

“Wait!” Oliver pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “How did you get up here anyway?”

“What?”

“Well, I’m on the fourth floor and you were obviously drunk but you came in through the window.” Felicity points towards the still open window. The lady below her has a balcony but still, that’s a long ways for a drunk guy to climb.

“Ah…parkour.”

“What…”

“Yeah, um…Tommy’s teaching me…I really have to go. Nice meeting you, Felicity.”

And just like that he’s gone, the door snapping shut behind him. Felicity blinks once then looks down at Sasha who is considering at the door like she just now realized there had been somebody else in the apartment.

“Well, that was bullshit.”

Oliver Queen is a very strange man but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued. She picks up one of her tablets off the counter, swiping it awake with her finger. The screen clears to reveal an incomplete application to the IT department of Queen Consolidated. She finishes filling it out over breakfast and sends it in before going to take a shower, the feeling of Oliver’s hand in hers lingering.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Only the story is mine.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [here.](http://queerfelicity.tumblr.com)


End file.
